Following the conclusion of the Polish counter-attack, the main German forces in the region withdrew toward the Vistula River, preparing to face the next Soviet wave. Even Hitler issued no criticism of this redeployment; the pressure within Germany was mounting so rapidly that every available man was needed at home. Hitler's attention was instead fixed on the units withdrawing from Romania.

The Soviet offensive in Romania had been a resounding success, with 600,000 troops utterly shattering a German force of 120,000. Fewer than 70,000 survivors were now fleeing toward Germany.

Hitler had initially worried that Hungary might interfere during the retreat, but those fears proved groundless. Hungary was preoccupied with a ferocious assault on the Carpathian Mountains in western Romania. As the Germans passed through, they witnessed combat of incredible intensity.

The Hungarian and Romanian forces fought savagely over every strategic peak, engaging in at least two major bayonet battles. Ultimately, the Hungarians managed to seize the heights, only to be driven back by a courageous counter-attack from the reorganized Romanians.

The two armies hammered each other into the dirt, showing total indifference to the German columns passing nearby. The Hungarians even displayed a certain flexibility of mind, asking the retreating Germans if they could spare any equipment for their continued fight.

Observing the carnage, the Germans were struck by Hungarian tenacity—and a degree of irritation. They felt that had the Hungarians shown such a will to fight against the Soviets, the Red Army might have suffered far greater losses.

Despite these thoughts, the Germans did not linger. They abandoned what equipment was too cumbersome to haul and continued their rapid withdrawal. Units of the World People's Liberation Army had already liberated Bulgaria and were now surging into Hungary.

The Soviet objective was to occupy all of Romania, ideally before the WPLA helped the Hungarians secure the Carpathians. From the Kremlin’s perspective, China’s deep penetration into Europe had already destabilized the continental balance; they assumed the Chinese weren't foolish enough to start a war with the Red Army over a few mountain passes after already taking Bulgaria and Hungary.

Meanwhile, Molotov had arrived in China by air. According to the original plan, the USSR would send an envoy once they had secured the Baltics, Poland, and Romania. These territories represented the Soviet baseline, and they had no intention of retreating.

While the defeat in Poland was disappointing, the Red Army was no stranger to setbacks, and it did little to dampen Molotov’s spirits. However, he soon discovered that He Rui would not see him. Li Runshi, currently occupied with the Two Sessions, was even less likely to find the time.

Molotov was received by the Chinese Foreign Minister, Li Shiguang. But this election cycle was a true changing of the guard. The He Rui government was transitioning into the Li Runshi government, and the heads of almost every major department were being replaced. Li Shiguang himself was preparing for retirement. Molotov would have to wait.

Fortunately, Li Shiguang’s remaining duties primarily involved attending meetings, leaving him with a relatively light schedule. During his reception of Molotov in the capital, he also invited Zhao Tianlin. Zhao had been one of the first premier-level leaders to leave the He Rui government and had since become a figure of immense academic influence. Molotov did not dare underestimate this refined scholar.

Zhao Tianlin made no mention of the Red Army’s unilateral offensive. Instead, he inquired about the restoration of schools in the Soviet Union. As an educator, Zhao was deeply concerned with academic exchange. Once the war ended, he hoped to see the resumption of scholarly ties between the two nations. Although Molotov was the People's Commissar for Foreign Affairs, his role as an international traveler made him an appropriate person to ask.

Ever the experienced diplomat, Molotov immediately extended an invitation for Zhao to visit the Soviet Union. This fell within a Foreign Minister’s purview: in non-professional fields, he would relay sentiments and facilitate mutual visits, or even issue direct invitations.

As they were chatting, someone entered and whispered something to Zhao. He apologized to Molotov, "My apologies, I must leave. I shall treat Mr. Molotov to dinner at a later date."

Molotov accepted graciously. After Zhao’s departure, he continued his discussion with Li Shiguang regarding the future. Li hid nothing; in an industrial age, concealing national policy was often more harmful than helpful.

However, given the sheer volume of current Chinese policies, Li Shiguang focused on external affairs rather than domestic matters. The future world economic order planned by China was a radical departure from the colonial era. It centered on the establishment of a United Nations, designed with a realist eye: the permanent members of the Security Council would possess a veto.

Hearing this, Molotov felt it was essential for the Soviet Union to join. But the details that followed made him somewhat uneasy.

The economic order China proposed was highly aggressive. Global trade would be managed by two organizations, one of which was the World Bank. The World Bank’s organizational model was a copy of the US Federal Reserve, where every nation’s status was analogous to that of an American state. Its primary function would be "the management of fiscal transfers between nations."

In China's vision, nations at different stages of development would have varying degrees of influence. This was intended to prevent countries with low levels of development from wielding power disproportionate to their actual strength. The formula for defining this influence was complex, but the basic principle was: "Power is proportional to contribution."

"Contribution" was further categorized into types, including economic and "specialty" contributions. At this stage, China's contribution was undoubtedly the largest, and it would provide the most in transfer payments. However, since China itself lacked a savanna climate, if it wished to conduct research in such a region, it would provide research funding to the host nation, and the two would jointly develop the area.

Molotov smiled but said nothing, thinking to himself that this was merely colonialism in a new guise. But such thoughts were best kept to himself for now.

In contrast to the economic order, the global security framework China proposed was surprisingly loose. China did not seek a formal military alliance, nor did it forbid other nations from forming their own. Li Shiguang argued that such things were inevitable. China’s goal was simply to establish a security system "against war"—while China opposed war, it acknowledged it could not forbid all conflicts.

After a period of conversation, Li Shiguang saw his guest out. As a party delegate, he still had sessions to attend. The meeting had taken place in a hotel; as they stepped out, they encountered Zhao Tianlin walking alongside a somber-looking elderly man. Molotov vaguely recognized him as Duan Qirui.

Duan was in low spirits and barely acknowledged the younger men. After resigning as Speaker of the Congress, he had intended to spend his final years in retirement. He had only rushed from Tianjin to the capital after hearing of the proposal in the People's Congress to no longer recognize the He Rui government as part of "Old China."

Seeing Li Shiguang, Duan let out a long sigh. "You... you young people of New China. Do as you see fit."

With that, Duan walked away with his hands behind his back. Li Shiguang and Zhao Tianlin exchanged a look, both seeing a sense of indifference in the other’s eyes. To the younger generation of Beiyang origin, they only felt an affinity for the Beiyang faction when they recalled that the "Republic of China" was an era-name created by the southern revolutionaries; otherwise, the Beiyang of their memories was little different from an enemy.

Previously, He Rui had only spoken of "New China" without pushing for a formal change. A change of national name was not without its costs, the greatest being the intensification of internal contradictions. But the situation now was entirely different. Bringing the ideological conflict into the open would allow them to cut through the confusion and clarify positions once and for all.

Previously, many within the country—and even within the upper echelons of the party—felt that after the victory, a reckoning was needed to eliminate the "enemies." While Li Shiguang and Zhao Tianlin were moderates who didn't want to cause trouble, that didn't mean they lacked the impulse to purge. The formal proposal of "New China" vs "Old China" actually gave them a sense of total liberation.

Molotov, watching the expressions of these three Chinese officials from different eras, felt a touch of disdain. The Soviet Union had long ago conducted its purges and made a clean break with Tsarist Russia. That China was only now doing so made him feel the Chinese revolution was insufficiently thorough.

Returning to his quarters, Molotov read through the Chinese newspapers. Unlike Soviet papers, the Chinese press had numerous foreign correspondents and reported with great timeliness, making them highly readable on international affairs.

Molotov was soon captivated by the latest news from America. Members of the US Congress had recently focused their fire on a demand for a new Constitution. The move had triggered a massive domestic shockwave. According to Chinese reports, the number of congressmen supporting a new Constitution was growing and now approached half of the total.

While the US had produced many constitutional amendments, the scope of such changes was limited, and they were always tinged with the flavor of "the laws of the ancestors must not be changed." If a true constitutional convention occurred, America would face a transformation of immense proportions.

At that very moment, on a railway headed for Washington, another Molotov sat silently in a soft-sleeper carriage with several companions. They shared a single goal: the assassination of US President Henry Wallace.

Molotov Konstantin Sheval was of Russian descent, his family having immigrated to the US a hundred years ago. A former shop owner and a retired staff sergeant, he sought to kill Wallace because he believed the President had betrayed the American military. After sacrificing millions of American lives, Wallace had chosen to sue for peace with China.

Another man, Jules, had also been a shop owner and was once an editor for a South Carolina newspaper and a member of the American Fascist Party. His desire to kill Wallace was driven entirely by his loathing for the Vice President, Eleanor Roosevelt. If Wallace were killed, America would face the prospect of a female President. Jules hated the possibility so much that he wanted the entire nation to be forced to confront it.

The third man, a young fellow named Sismon, was a veteran from Montana. He had served in the same unit as Sheval and Jules. Sismon’s motive was simple: he wanted to go home and marry a good girl. But he felt his life lacked any significant achievement. Hearing the plan to kill the President, he saw it as a way to create a "highlight" for his life.

With the President dead, Sismon believed he would have the confidence to propose to any girl back home.

It had to be said that the US Presidency was a high-risk occupation. The probability of assassination was high, with four Presidents already having died in office by such means. Thus, the three "brothers" did not see their plan as something incomprehensible.

They had discussed the "why" many times and were now clear on their purpose. After the initial surge of adrenaline, they were exhausted and sat in silence. Jules and Sheval were too drained to speak. Only the young Sismon still had some energy, and he went over the plan in his mind.

It was not a complex operation. Jules knew a friend who ran a gun shop in Washington. They would first purchase weapons from him, then locate the President. Once the deed was done, they would split up and flee to reduce the chance of capture. From a simple military perspective, the plan was entirely feasible.

Stretching his limbs, Sismon leaned back against the seat and fell asleep. In his dreams, he was on a date with the most beautiful girl in town, and it seemed they were perfect for each other.